Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Those Left Behind
by Malc Modnar
Summary: This is a story about heroes, ripped from their homes to save a world they have never known. This is a story about Isaac Rosen, a graduate student at Hoenn's LaRousse University who finds himself swept up in an investigation by the mysterious International Police. This is a story about family, about those we've lost and those left behind.


CASE LOG #004039B

EYES-ONLY

 **44BL:** How many?

 **000:** Three more. That makes-

 **44BL:** I know exactly how many that makes. You don't have to remind me.

 **000:** Sorry.

 **44BL:** What about [71NA]? Has she had anything to say about this?

 **000:** She's surprised, says this shouldn't be happening like this.

 **44BL** : This shouldn't be happening at all.

(Pause, 7 seconds.)

 **000:** So. Hoenn then.

 **44BL:** [71NA] is right. It's our only lead.

 **000:** Can we trust her?

 **44BL:** We have to. For their sake.

END LOG

* * *

"As you can see here," I continued, pointing towards the map projected onto the screen behind me, "artifacts matching those found at Meteor Falls have been recovered all across the Hoenn region. This would suggest that Draconid culture was far more influential than we have previously assumed, and at its height their civilization may even have had regular dealings with the ancient Sootopolian and Oblivian tribes."

I turned to face my audience once more. "Despite this, we still have very little understanding of ancient Draconid society. Their ancestral homes at Meteor Falls are considered protected tribal lands, so an in-depth study them is obviously out of the question. However, with the recent discovery of Draconid artifacts in the Oblivia region, we have a unique opportunity to gain insight into their culture and practices. A research expedition to the area could-"

"A research expedition? In _Oblivia_? Are you out of your mind?"

I gulped. Seated in front of me was LaRousse University's Research Grants Committee - a group of three of the university's senior-most scholars, all impeccably dressed and wearing expressions somewhere between boredom and annoyance. These three individuals would decide the course of my academic career for the next few years, based entirely on my presentation today. Up until now, I had thought it was going pretty well.

The one who had interrupted me, an older man who I recognized as the head of one of the university's departments, was visibly fuming. "Do you have any idea how much of a nightmare dealing with the Ranger Union is?" he demanded. "It'd take us months just to get approval to so much as enter the region, let alone organize an archaeological dig! And the expense-"

The woman seated next to him cut him off. She managed several of the university's most prestigious research labs, and from what little I'd heard of her, I knew that her opinion carried the most weight of the three. "What my colleague means to say is that the Ranger Union is notoriously protective of its national heritage. That's not to say an expedition to Oblivia is impossible, but we're going to need some extra convincing." She glanced down at the stack of papers in front of her, frowning slightly. "Tell me more about these artifacts you mentioned. You say that they bear distinct similarities to verified Draconid artifacts - could you elaborate?"

I nodded. "Ah, yes. The, um, artifacts from Oblivia are mostly pottery and stonework. The artistic themes present in them are similar to those depicted in Draconid murals at Meteor Falls."

The first man spoke up again. "Artistic themes? You based the entirety of your claim on a similar subject matter?"

The third member of the committee, a scrawny, bearded man, chimed in. "I, personally, see little similarity here. There's no distinct language, no common craftsmanship… the only commonality is the use of Unknown script, and that's hardly unique to the region."

"Yes… I'm afraid this does seem like a bit of a reach." The woman sighed. "Mr. Rosen…" She leaned forward. "Isaac. Have you shown your findings to any of this university's senior researchers?"

"I- er…" I stammered. "Yes, I have."

"And have any of them endorsed your hypothesis?"

I sighed. "No, ma'am. None of them have."

She leaned back in her chair. "I see."

"I think the decision of this committee is clear," the bearded man said.

"I agree," the woman replied." I'm sorry Mr. Rosen, but given the difficulties involved with your proposal and the lack of concrete evidence to support your theory, we simply cannot approve of an expedition to confirm it. Perhaps when more information on these artifacts has emerged we can reconsider it, but for the time being, I'm afraid your proposal is denied."

"I… understand. Thank you for your time," I muttered, defeated. Scooping up my papers off the nearby table, I unceremoniously dumped them into my backpack as I shuffled out of the conference room.

I was crushed. I had spent the past two years working on my theory, and had hoped that it would serve as the backbone for my thesis on ancient Draconid civilization. The committee's rejection had sent me back to the drawing board. As distracted as I was mulling all this over, it was little surprise that I almost walked right into the woman waiting for me in the hallway outside.

Instead, I managed to catch myself at the last moment, stopping just a few inches short of running straight into her. I stumbled backwards, dropping my bag as I did so. It hit the ground with a dull thud and sent my papers flying across the hall.

"S-sorry!" I mumbled, already stooping over to collect my scattered papers and what remained of my dignity.

"That's quite alright," the woman replied, kneeling down to help me collect my belongings. "I know a bad day when I see one."

I sighed as I shoved the last of my papers back into my bag. "You have no idea."

The woman smiled. "I think I could make an educated guess, Isaac."

I froze, and met the strange woman's gaze for the first time. She was tall and lean, with an angular face that showed just the faintest signs of age at its corners. Her long lilac hair was tied in a single neat ponytail, and it made for a sharp contrast with the flat black of her suit and tie. Her eyes were an almost steely grey, and I could practically feel them sizing me up, measuring my reaction and filing the information away for later use.

"I'm sorry, but… do I know you?" I asked, holding my backpack like it would shield me from her gaze.

She shook her head. "No," she replied, reaching into her pocket and producing a black leather wallet, which she flipped open to reveal a gleaming bronze badge.

"Special Agent Anabel, International Police. I'd like to have a word with you."

I'm pretty sure my heart skipped a beat or twelve right then.

"I- um…" I stammered. "I think I need a lawyer…"

The International Police agent laughed. "Oh no, that doesn't work with us."

I gulped.

"Relax," she added, still smiling softly. "You aren't in any trouble. The truth is, I'm currently investigating a rather… _unique_ case, and I could use your help."

"Y-you want my _help_?" I asked, certain I must have misheard her.

Anabel nodded. "Yes. Specifically, we need an expert in Draconid society."

"So you came to _me_?"

She laughed again. "Oh _no_. We found an actual expert. But there were some…" Her smile vanished. "...complications. She's no longer available. You were the best we could do on short notice."

And like that, what little ego I had left came crashing down.

"Oh," I replied. "So what did you need from me?"

Anabel turned and began walking towards the exit, motioning for me to follow. "Take a walk with me, would you?" she asked. Needless to say, I followed.

Outside, the university plaza was bustling with activity as students scurried between classes or chattered amongst themselves in scattered groups. LaRousse was the largest university in Hoenn, and its campus was especially crowded around this time of day. It didn't seem to bother the International Police agent, though - she simply kept walking, and everyone else got out of her way. I did my best to keep up.

And for a while, that was all we did - walk. Anabel led the way, though I doubt she had any particular destination in mind. She led me up and down the campus, asking the occasional question about the university but mostly leaving me to wonder what, exactly, she was doing.

We were in one of the campus parks when she finally came to a stop. I had almost worked up the nerve to ask why an actual member of the _International Police_ had come looking for me when she slowed her pace and fixed her attention on a nearby group of students. I followed her gaze, curious to see what had caught her interest. It was a battle between a group of pokémon trainers - relatively tame by normal standards, I guess, but the university prefered that students refrain from burning down any buildings during on-campus battles.

"What gave it away? I asked.

Anabel glanced my way with a smile. "You aren't the type. I can tell."

"Yeah…" I replied. "I mean, I dabbled in it as a kid, taught the family skitty a couple moves, but…" I shrugged. "My sister always had a better head for battling than I did. I just couldn't handle the pressure."

Anabel nodded. "It certainly isn't for everyone." She chuckled. "Legends know how the economy would work if it was. Like you said, it's about managing pressure - about how well you work under stress." She turned to face me, every trace of humor gone from her expression. "I say this, Isaac Rosen, because my job is much the same. The International Police deal with things nobody could possibly be prepared for. We deal with the nightmarish, the impossible, and the outright bizarre on a regular basis. Depending on who you ask, my current case is all three of those things… and I could use your help with it. But before I go any further, I need you to understand the magnitude of what I'm asking of you. It won't be easy. You may be called on to make some very difficult choices. But if you decide to help me, to help _us_ …" She paused, and once again I could feel her eyes boring into me, measuring me like a sheet of thin ice to see if I could handle the weight she was about to put on me. I guess she decided I could, because she finished her thought a moment later:

"...then we just might be able to bring some missing kids back to their families."

And like that, she had me. "Alright," I said. "I'll help however I can."

What followed was a quiet, uneventful, and extremely awkward drive up Route 121 into Lilycove City. I tried convincing Anabel to tell me about why the International Police needed someone who knew about the Draconids, but her only reply was to say that she would "fill me in once we'd met up with her partner." The rest of the drive passed in silence - she left the radio off, and I wasn't about to second-guess her on it.

Our destination turned out to be the Lilycove Airport. It was really more of a glorified landing strip than an actual airport, with only a few small buildings to service the occasional commercial flights that passed through the city, but today it looked like a fortress. I counted at least half a dozen policemen standing outside the front gate, their pokémon already free and on alert. Apparently they were waiting for us, because after a brief stop to check Anabel's ID, they waved us through.

Out on the tarmac, a single black helicopter was waiting for us. A thin, almost gaunt older man leaned against it, his short gray hair ruffled as if he'd just crawled out of bed… or out from under a rock. His ragged black suit had definitely seen better days, and if the bags under his dark, sunken eyes were any indication, so had he.

"Isaac," Anabel said as we approached, "I'd like you to meet my partner on this case, Special Agent Three-Oh-"

"Give it a rest, Anabel," he interjected, staring me straight in the eyes with a look that was somewhere between bored and annoyed. "I'm too old for that codename nonsense, and I know for a fact you haven't been using yours. The name's Nanu." He shifted his gaze towards Anabel. "We ready to go, then?"

Anabel nodded. "Assuming you still know how to fly one of these things, yes."

Nanu clambered into the pilot's seat without another word, and I followed Anabel's lead as she climbed into the helicopter's rear, pulling the door closed behind us with a loud thud. It was cramped inside, but not uncomfortably so, and I had just finished fastening my seatbelt when the International Police agent tossed a heavy manilla envelope into my lap.

"Case files," she explained. "You don't have to memorize them, but you should at least familiarize yourself with the names and faces. Oh," she added, fishing an aviation headset out of a nearby pouch, "you'll need one of these, too."

I had barely managed to get the headphones on when the helicopter's engine roared to life, its blades thrashing at the air as it slowly rose up off the tarmac. I nodded my thanks to Anabel, who was now wearing a similar headset, and a few moments later I managed to find what I thought was the power switch. I flicked it on, and was rewarded with the sound of Anabel's voice blaring through my headset in a roar of static. I would've jumped out of my seat if I hadn't been strapped in, and I spent the next few seconds clawing frantically at the volume knob.

"Sorry," I said, my ears still ringing, "could you repeat that?"

"I said it's about time we brought you up to speed on things," she replied, nodding to the envelope in my lap. "Open it up."

I opened the envelope and pulled out its contents. The first thing I saw, sitting right on top of the thick stack of papers, was a picture of a boy wearing a plain red T-shirt and a pair of thick rimmed glasses. He was young - I guessed he couldn't have been more than twelve years old at the most, and a quick glance at the text printed next to his photo confirmed it. His name was Jacob Shikoba, he was ten years old, about four feet and five inches tall, and weighed seventy-nine pounds. He lived in Striaton City in the Unova region, where he attended Pleasant Fields Elementary. He had recently enrolled in the local Trainer's School, but had yet to graduate and earn his license.

He had disappeared three months ago. The next page in the stack was similar. Another photo, this time of a young girl from Johto, who had also vanished around the same time. Below that was another picture… and another. And another.

"Eleven missing children," Anabel said flatly, "all between the ages of eight and fourteen. All of them disappeared within two weeks of one another - vanished right out of their homes at night. No signs of kidnapping, no disturbances reported, no leads. Just a lot of missing kids."

I had stopped looking through the pictures. It was too much to take in all at once. "How… how is that possible?" I asked.

"We're not sure," Anabel replied. "At first, local police thought there might be some kind of teleporter involved - it certainly wouldn't be the first time we've seen psychic-types used in kidnappings - but forensics didn't back that theory up. Instead, they turned up something… different. An energy signature, but not one that matched any known teleportation method. That's when the International Police got involved."

She leaned forward. "The information I'm about to tell you is, obviously, classified. The energy signature present at each of these kids' last known locations could only have been caused by a trans-dimensional event of significant magnitude. Wherever they are now, it very probably isn't in this world."

"What, you mean they're in some kind of alternate dimension? Like a parallel universe or something?"

"More or less. In recent decades, the scientific community has become aware of several other realities that exist alongside ours. Some are nearly identical to our own, while others are so wildly different we've barely begun to make sense of them. But they're all connected - to our world and to each other - by a hyperdimension we call 'Ultra Space'. To give you the short version: sometimes things manage to travel _through_ Ultra Space. Sometimes those things wind up in our world. I lead a task force that deals with these… unwelcome guests."

She leaned back with a sigh. "So, when I got word that something may have not only come through to our world, but also taken several _children_ back with it… I started digging. What I found was that these kids all had one thing in common: despite the fact that they lived everywhere from Kalos to Kanto, every single one of them could trace their ancestry back to the ancient Draconid tribe of western Hoenn. It was a bit of a stretch, but we didn't exactly have much else to go on."

"Wait," I said, starting to put the pieces together in my head. "That… actually kinda makes sense. Draconid tradition holds that their people are tasked with protecting some sort of other world beyond our own - it's a theme that pops up in pretty much all their major artwork and stories. I always assumed it was just another bit of folklore, but if what you're saying is true-"

"It is," Anabel asserted.

"Um… right. I didn't mean to- I mean, I'm sure you guys know what you're talking about-"

She smiled. "It's fine. Continue."

"Right. Well, if there really are other worlds out there, like the Draconids believed, then maybe there really is something to their myths after all." I frowned. "But… if that is the case, I don't know if I can really be much help to you."

Anabel was still smiling, like she knew something I didn't. "And why is that?"

"Because the Draconids are extremely secretive," I replied. "Their history is passed down from generation to generation entirely through their Lorekeepers. They rarely keep written records, and they don't share secrets with outsiders. It's why we know so little about them." I sighed. "Unless you happen to know where we can find a Lorekeeper, all I can do is share a few Draconid folk stories."

"I see," Anabel said, reaching into the pocket of her suit jacket. She produced a small, neatly folded sheet of paper, which she handed to me without another word.

I unfolded it, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. It was another photograph, although this one had clearly been taken by a security camera at some kind of office building. It showed, in surprising clarity, a tall, middle-aged woman with short black hair wearing a tattered brown cloak over what looked like a tank top and cargo shorts. A strange blueish anklet wound around her left leg, and a small pokémon - a whismur - sat perched on her shoulder. The cloak, the anklet… there was no mistaking that outfit, even if the tank top was a bit of an odd touch - it was the traditional garb of a Draconid Lorekeeper.

"Her name is Zinnia," Anabel explained, "and she is the only living Lorekeeper we know of. That footage was taken during a break-in at the Mossdeep Space Center two years ago - the last time anyone saw her. We were able to track her down from there, and interestingly enough, she was just as surprised to find out what was happening as you were."

"So… the Draconids aren't involved?" I asked, confused.

"They _weren't_ involved," Anabel replied. "At least, not knowingly."

Nanu, who had been silent up until this point, chimed in. "Never would have been, either, if we hadn't gotten Zinnia involved. That girl's a bag full of crazy."

Anabel frowned. "What my partner means is that, even if Zinnia didn't know about the disappearances beforehand, she definitely knew more than she was letting on. The moment she got the chance, she ran. We were able to track her to Meteor Falls, but from there, the trail goes cold. Like she just vanished. That was about a week ago."

"Which is why you're here," Nanu added. "We're scraping the bottom of the barrel, hoping we can find some way to figure out where Zinnia ran off to."

"And if we can find her, maybe we can figure out how this all fits together," Anabel said. "Zinnia is the only person who has any idea what happened to those kids. We're headed to Meteor Falls now - hopefully from there you can give us some insight as to where she may have gone next."

I gulped, but I nodded the affirmative. "Um… sure. I guess it's not quite what I expected I'd be doing with my education, but if it helps…"

Anabel chuckled. "That's the spirit." Turning, she stared out the window for several long minutes and watched Hoenn roll by below us before finally speaking again. "Isaac. There's something else you should know."

"Oh? What is it?"

She turned to face me once again, her expression strangely controlled - much more so than I had seen it during our previous conversation. "I had another reason for bringing you onto this case. Once we knew that these disappearances were related, I started looking into other unsolved missing persons cases, trying to see if there were any other… anomalies. Anything that might indicate that something like this had happened before."

She put her hand on mine. It was the scariest thing the International Police agent had done since I met her.

"I found a single matching report from six years ago. An energy signature that could only be left behind by interdimensional interference. It was at your sister's last known location."


End file.
